Out of Wonderland
by Skylark Evanson
Summary: It was all wrong.


**A/N: Did this pretty late last night. It was pretty spur of the moment. Didn't even think the whole thing through before I started writing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.  
>Warning: One word. Didn't think that classified it at the T rating.<strong>

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><p><em><span>Out of Wonderland<span>_

With Artemis's conscious mind back in control, her fingers were immediately stretching over the side of her bed to graze the bow that she kept there; the touch of her tool would soothe away the nightmares like they never even happened. She let her arm fall over the side of the bed, waiting for her skin to graze the cool, curved metal-

-to find it's place empty. She rolled over, eyes searching the floor to see where it had gotten away to in the middle of the night.

Not even a green feather lay on the deep brown floorboards. No bow. No quiver. No arrows.

"Mom!" Artemis threw off the covers and bolted from her room, narrowly catching the corner in time to keep from skidding into the wall. Her bare feet pounded down the hall and into the main living space. "Mom!"

"Your mother's at work."

The voice sent shivers down her spine, sent her heart racing, made her eyes widen, and stabbed fear right into her core.

"You should know that by now, Artemis. She's been working at that bank for five years now." Lawrence Crock put down his coffee and shook out the wrinkles in the Sunday paper. He shot her a coy and curious look out of his peripheral vision, countenance becoming almost amused by his daughter's ignorance.

"Dad." Saying it felt like drinking poison. He'd been gone almost a year now; her mother had come back from prison and her father had left, a simple trade off. Artemis didn't want to accept the truth. He wasn't here. He couldn't be here!

But the apartment around her made her look again: it was clean, more modern. The wood didn't look as dingy, and the couch didn't have the thousands of stains on it anymore. The kitchen table even seemed new. And her father being in the picture only made it that much more shocking.

Lawrence carried on as if he hadn't heard the faint whisper pass her lips. "But she'll be back soon. Within the hour, I suppose."

Another voice sliced through the nearly perfect silence, quick and sly as a finger grazed the blonde's shoulder as her sister slipped past on cat's feet. "But then she'll go for her walk, so that'll be another hour." Jade gave a sly smile before passing on into the kitchen, kidnapping her father's coffee along the way. She lifted the mug to her lips silently, shooting her sister a smirk.

It was like her worst nightmares inviting themselves into her home. Artemis's heart thundered in her chest, pounding against her ribcage like a drum. "Mom's in a wheelchair," she forced out through gritted teeth. She hated it when anyone mocked her mother's condition. After all the years of waiting for Paula to get back, Artemis wasn't going to take any shit about the woman's disability. "She can't walk."

The other two shared a look. Jade was the first to speak up, asking, "Arty, did you hit your head or something?"

Jaw clenching tighter, she ground out, "It's _Artemis_." She hadn't gone by Arty in years, and that wasn't about to change now. No matter what the situation.

The newspaper was put down. Her father rose out of his chair, offering a reassuring hand out to her. "Sweetie-"

The blonde would've given him a nice roundhouse kick had she known he'd fallen from it; his barreled chest and thick arms proved he wasn't soft, and she wouldn't do something so moronic as to instigate him to violence. So she bolted. Back down the hallway, to her room, she dove for her bed and began groping underneath it for the collapsible crossbow she kept close at all times. Her bow was gone and that was bad news, but she hoped maybe her secondary would still be near...

"Artemis," came her father's worried voice, carried down the hall and through the open door. "Artemis, whatever's gotten into you-"

With a few quick motions, she'd slammed the door shut and locked it up tight. Artemis even took the liberty of shoving her sister's immaculately made bed in front of the door for good measure. Because this was wrong. Her father. Jade. No equipment.

It was all wrong.

The girl was quick to wrap one of her leather jackets around her body, ignoring the fact that she was wearing only a pair of shorts and a tank top in what seemed to be autumn. She slipped out the window, clamoring out of the bushes and onto the sidewalk, racing towards the zeta teleporter. The cave. Mount Justice. They'd help her. The League could get Sportsmaster and Cheshire out of her house. They would fix it all.

Strange stares were thrown her way. The wind tore at her loose golden locks as she ran, cheeks burning from the cold, eyes stinging with hot tears that refused to fall. The jacket flapped behind her like a cape.

She just had to get to the teleporter.

Artemis rounded the corner, a broken beer bottle slicing the side of her foot, but not even a whimper of pain came from her. She had already seen the phone booth, relief in sight. The girl approached, slowing to a stop on the gravelly ground before letting herself in and shutting the door behind her.

There was no light. There was no teleporting. There was no announcement.

She was standing in a broken phone booth.

Breathing now frantic as terror rolled through her, the blonde stepped out, one hand shoving open the door while the other pressed itself to her temple. Her gray-blue eyes were shut in pain as she tried to comprehend.

Her father.

Jade.

No bow.

No zeta.

"Artemis?"

A familiar voice. Something to keep her sane, to hold her down. She looked to the mouth of the alley, against the glaring light of the morning sun reflecting off of Gotham buildings. Artemis asked the silhouette, "Mom?"

Paula Crock walked towards her daughter on her own two feet before leaning down to the girl, grasping her shoulders. "Honey, what's wrong?"

That was the last straw; this reality had been confirmed. Artemis had fallen out of Wonderland. The team didn't exist. Her family was no crime ring. Her mother could walk. Her father and sister didn't have wanted posters.

And she was no heroine.

Sobs were let loose, shaking her whole body. All she could do was bury her face in her mother's shoulder and murmur, "_Everything_."

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><p><strong>AN: Originally, Sportsmaster & Cheshire weren't even in this, but of course, then it dawned on me that realistically, they would have to be in it. It was a snap decision, but either way, I like how it turned out…**

**Review?**

**~Sky**


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